Getting Down and Dirty

Somehow, I knew, just knew, that Dr. Drill would be taking us outdoors today. Sure enough, after we stood at attention and my neighbor completed 25 pushups for not standing at complete attention, he sent us downstairs and into the cool morning. We formed three ranks and marched out to a field, sounding off cadences the whole time. (Have to admit, love the cadences. Must be the college music major in me)

Once at our destination, we engaged in all sorts of craziness. We lined up picnic tables and used the seating as steps. Up and down and up and down we stepped onto the benches. At 5'1, I enviously eyed the 6'3-ish guy across from me hopping up and down like he was on springs. Then, on the field, we had to do wind sprints (which I fondly call "winded sprints"), followed up with leap frogs, bear crawls, jumping, plyometric skipping (code for skipping as high and as far as you can) and eventually, walking. I aced the walking.

Soon afterwards, we found ourselves in a sandpit, where we did the familiar planks, crunches, pushups and leg lifts. At the end of the hour, most of us were filthy from grass, sand, dirt and effort. Back we marched to the gym. It was a tough workout, but good fun. Every morning around 4AM when I wake up and realize that the alarm clock is going off soon, I feel a sense of dread and wonder why someone in less-than-ideal condition is trying to do this. But it never fails: by the time we're halfway through the workout, I've got an adrenaline rush going and am really, really happy I haven't given up. I might be one of the slowest in the class, but I'm not ashamed. We're all there to get a good workout no matter who is the tortoise or the hare.